


Unfortunate Art

by Clara_Watson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Watson/pseuds/Clara_Watson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes attends an art exhibition with Mary and John when he bumps into an old university "friend" that he hasn't seen in eleven years-and everything unfolds from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfortunate Art

Sherlock rearranged his suit jacket, like he'd done so many times previously, and followed John and Mary into the art exhibition. He didn't want to be here. They knew that. He wanted to be back at home, shrouded in darkness... an experiment in his hands. But no, they insisted he went and saw art. Entirely predictable art. An embarrassment to all who lived. But, to normal people like John and Mary, art was fascinating.  
"Sherlock," Mary smiled, patting his arm and pointing over to a picture, "Go check them out." It was a painting of... paint. It wasn't exciting. Getting the hint he walked over, when he hit a stool and cursed, then apologised.  
"No, no, it's fine. I think I stuck it out in front of you." The woman smiled, pushing her hair out of her face, then stopped as she saw Sherlock. "Oh." Her voice changed to icy cold and the grip on her wine glass full of apple cider tightened.  
"Hi, Clair." Sherlock said timidly, unsure how to speak to the woman he'd ignored for eleven years. "I guess you've changed your mind on who hit the chair now." Clair shook her head.  
"No, I'm determined I stuck that stool out in front of you now." Sherlock shrugged, and then watched as she returned to the conversation she was having before, watching as she swayed, the beautiful way she always did. Then, shaking the sentiment out of his head he left through the back door, he knew Mary had seen him leave and smiled as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

*****

Sherlock had promised himself one bloody cigar, that was all. But even as he was about to put it in his mouth John rang. Sherlock began to wonder whether John really did have a sixth sense for finding out when he was smoking. Sherlock answered it with a shaky breath.  
"Hello?" Sherlock asked, annoyed at the distraction.  
"The chick you had a weird conversation with," John started, Sherlock wished he could blow smoke. He would if he had lit his cigarette. "She's got three men practically about to kill her. Security's here but she looks scared shitless. She's said your name a couple of times, and someone's calling Mycroft. You know her?" John never got his reply, Sherlock was already through the door and fighting his way between the crowd that had gathered.  
"Slut." One of the men said, pushing at her shoulder. Clair smiled mockingly, dodging another poke, the other one grabbed her arm and ran his lips down her neck. Clair's face paled considerably, her body suddenly shaky.  
"Get your filthy hands and mouth off of her, Sam." Sherlock announced, causing the woman in front of him to squeal and jump out of the way.  
"Whoops." Sam, who retracted his lips from her neck, smiled, pushing her shoulder. The crowd watched as she fell backwards, hitting her head on the concrete column.  
"You'll be saying 'whoops' for a long time," Sherlock yelled punching Sam straight into his brother's arms and rushing over to Clair. Blood seeped around the back of her head, her hand placed weakly against the wound. She smiled as she saw Sherlock's face, her free hand reaching out to cup his cheek. She mouthed 'I'm sorry' before closing her eyes.  
Half a minute later the paramedics had to pry Clair from Sherlock's arms, and twenty minutes later John finally got a muffled groan, and he took the bewildered Sherlock home.


End file.
